I'd Like To Thank...

it was a big weekend for awards and thank you speeches, on friday one of the greatest nba hall of fame classes was inducted into springfield (home of the nba hall of fame), the class included david robinson, viv stringer, john stockton, jerry sloan and michael jordan. then on sunday the mtv vma's.

in the nba induction, it had to be hard for enm (everyone not michael), his induction was so big that they couldn't hold the ceremony on site at the hall of fame and had to rent out a facility and charged $1,000 a ticket. this was the pinnacle of every ones hard work and the cherry on top of a long and arduous career and everyone was taking a backseat to michael. they knew it, michael knew it and everyone there knew it. in fact, the ceremony has never been shown on tv and this one was shown in prime time on espn. the michael factor. imagine the conversation that may have happened between john stockton and his kids:

"dad, congrats on the hall of fame, you're now among the greatest ever. sorry you never won a championship, but you are now enshrined among the gods of the game and we are very proud of you. do you know if we're going to be sitting near michael? do you think he'll sign my ticket? oh, is that charles barkley?"

then on sunday, mtv held their annual event to pretend that they still care about the art of the music video. to their defense they still do show videos. during the hours of 3 am - 3:30 am, sandwiched between the shows real world mars and i'm still a jackass, you may catch a clip of a video. ironically, the "award" show only had a handful of awards, most of them were given the standard award show disclaimer..."awards given last night at a special ceremony went to...", this allowed them to do more of what mtv does well which was everything but show music videos.

they kicked off the night with a tribute to michael jackson...warning, warning, an off subject rant about to ensue

i get it, he was great and a worldly icon, but to say that the entire night was dedicated to him and his life and to just sandwich the show with him was not a dedication. madonna was great, she's an icon as well and can probably relate to what he went through but her speech was more about her than him. the dancing was cool but the only way that anyone will celebrate him was to imitate his dancing so it really wasn't anything new. then janet came out and performed a bit of the song "scream", the only duet they did together, that was cool but the fact that they only made one song together, albeit not a great one, so it left little to get excited about. then radio silence until the end when they showed the trailer for his upcoming movie. so what was billed as a celebration of his life ended up being a 10 min song and dance in the beginning and a promotional spot for the movie? i spent more time celebrating his life loading his songs to my ipod than mtv did.

okay, i feel a lot better. back to the awards. as you all know, the first award went to taylor swift and kanye west stole the light by taking her mic and going on his own little rant on how she didn't deserve the award. jon and kate gosselin would need to release a sex tape that featured jon hooking up with lindsey lohan while kate was complaining that he wasn't doing it right to have better drama than what kanye did. kanye stole her acceptance, beyonce gave it back and taylor swift quickly became america's sweat heart and probably sold more music this week after than her entire career.

so those two events got me thinking. acceptance speeches should be an art form that are meticulously thought of, rehearsed and has meaning. this may be the only time you're on the stage where the world has casted their eyes and ears on you. you'll be lucky to have minutes of time at the podium to thank people, share your ego, show off your cleavage and say something witty. that's a lot of pressure for a few minutes. then you have to deal with emotions, not tripping while walking, the beautiful trophy girls standing behind you, the prompter telling you to hurry up, trying to act sober, forgetting to thank mom or showing sweat marks. too much pressure to be under.

then i got to thinking that acceptance speeches should be realized across all fields and throughout everyday jobs. everyone who has excelled in their field should have the chance to have the lights on them, a microphone and two minutes of utter nervousness. so i thought, what would an acceptance speech sound like at...

cable tv award show - best cable repair person

"wow, i totally didn't expect this. i wake up everyday saying that there are hundreds of people in my territory that missed out on dancing with the stars last night or had to hear about the outfit lauren conrad wore on the hills because their cable was out and it's up to me to make sure they don't miss tonight's premiere of bones. we get a bad rap for giving a four hour window of service and customers don't care what happens before i get to them, so i have to make sure that when i am there, that i give them the best cable repair i can. i'll use the better coaxial wires, change the batteries in their remote, i'll even tell them that the best hours for soft core porn are between 2 - 3 am on cinemax. i'd like to thank bob my supervisor who taught me the one handed cable cutting method that saves minutes during installation, jenny my first customer who thanked me with a ham sandwich and capri sun because i was doing her service during my lunch hour and my wife annie who has been by my side ever since we went from rabbit ears antenna to 100 hd channels and pay per view. thank you"

garbage collector awards - best dumper

"holy shit, thank you. this was not expected, i mean charlie has been on his route for more than 20 years and he is the standard that we all look to, he was the one that mastered the scoop and dump method that saves time and allows the trucks to keep moving and never stop, i'm grateful that he taught me that, charlie, this ones for you. i'd like to thank mrs. wright on summit ave, she always double bags with heavy duty liners and warns me when she puts her kitty litter in the bag so i can be more careful on how i load it into the truck. i'd like to thank mack, he's the best driver anyone can have, riding on the back of that rig isn't easy and mack knows when to speed up and slow down, when i need to hurry and when i need a break, mack you're an ambassador this and the garbage world owes you a thank you, you'll always be the best in receiving my dump. and lastly i'd like to thank my pops, it was at a young age when we were walking together and i carelessly tossed a candy wrapper on the floor and he chastised me by telling me that someone has to pick that up, you were right pop, someone has to pick that up and this ones for you."

weed award for rookie of the year dealer

"dude, way fucking cool. wow. when i was seven years old i would buy packs of gum for .50 cents and sell individual sticks for .10 each and then moved to selling sodas, then cans of beer, i knew that i had a knack for selling shit. when a friend asked me to take a toke from my j, i said sure, give me a buck first, that was when i realized that i can make money selling puffs for those that can't afford the whole j. so that led to the community j and i was making a killing on each puff which led to the multi-puff program i created that charged people $20 for a 25 puff punch card, so anytime they saw me and wanted a puff i would just punch their card and give them a puff. totally rocked out on that one. i want to thank...ha ha, dude i forgot who else i want to thank, where am i?"

cab drivers award show - driver of the year

"thank you, this is a huge honor. about five years ago i was just a girl driving my family around in my car making sure they got to where they need to get to, safe, on time and in a clean car, they would pay me in gas money and an occasional beer for the ride but i never thought that i could make a living out of it. for the last two years i became a cab driver in a male dominated world, as a female i am part of 2% of drivers that are female, with close to 50,000 cabs in nyc alone it's tough to survive. i pride myself in knowing the streets and having a fresh pine scent at all times, turning off that annoying tv that only causes motion sickness when riders watch it. i live by one motto that i recite everyday, you have an option, you can put yourself and your junk in his trunk which is dirty, smelly and don't know what else has been in there or you can get into mine which smells fresh, is clean and no matter how long we are together, you'll know that i was the best ride you ever had. thank you.

now wouldn't the world be a better place if we celebrated the best in all walks of life and give them their moment to shine and be thankful? i started to write what my thank you speech would be but i'm in the fourth hour of the four hour window waiting for my cable guy and he just arrived.

The Windless Storm

For all you Facebook or Twitter users, you've probably noticed that most updates from users are about remembrance of 9/11. It's interesting to see how the world or the digital world in this case has changed dramatically where the conversations of the masses are dictated not by the relevant news of the day but by the emotions of the people.

It was Twitter and Facebook that broke the death of Michael Jackson, statuses were flooded when Obama was called a "liar" by the Joe Wilson earlier in the week and users are most popular during their birthdays when their walls are flooded with posts from friends.

Not sure how I really feel about that. Part of me thinks that it's a great form of outlet that allows everyone to express how they feel, but on the other side of it, it also creates this massive bandwagon that gives the truly opinionated a soapbox.


But I've gone down a path on a topic which wasn't meant for this entry.


Rather than saying "I will remember" this day and its significance in our history and my life, there's a part of me that wants to say, I want to forget this day.


Tuesday, September 11, 5:00 AM


Buzz buzz buzz, the siren of the alarm clock goes off. A few grunts, a tug of the blanket and an ever so slight adjustment of my head in order to find a cooler side of pillow ensues. Buzz buzz buzz. "Are you going to get that" Alice, my girlfriend moans out. "It's for you, you have a flight to catch", I say quickly in order to not say too much to avoid getting my brain fully functioning, side stepping a full wake up of senses.


She gets up, prepares herself and less than :30 minutes later, she screams from the front door "bye". Door slams and wakes up the dog evident by the slight growl he let out from being disturbed from his sleep.


We've been living together for a few years and would later marry and then divorce. We were in a good point in our relationship, we both had a good job, we owned a great townhouse and marriage was the next step for us. We both travelled a lot for our jobs, I would travel throughout the US and she would go to England and Scotland a few times a year. This trip was to London.


There were times when I would be gone for several days every week. Years ago when I started travelling for my company, she was so worried about the flying that her mother gave her a small gift that was to be placed in my travel bag. It's a tiny plastic frog glued onto a decorative little card. On the back of the card it reads:

Japanese Kaeru Frog

In Japanese, the word kaeru means both "frog" and "return".

Tucked in a traveler's purse or carry-on, our little frog carries wishes for a safe return home.

I thought it was a good gesture and really showed her concern with my travelling so I never joked about bad flights, turbulence or anything that would've aided in her angst.

After another hour or so in bed, I had to get up. I had a quick day trip with the President of my company to New York city that day. We were planning on taking the 10 AM shuttle, we would meet in the office then ride to airport together.

Tuesday, September 11, 8:00 AM

I arrive at the office. Shortly afterwards I find out that we won't be going to New York that day, meetings were cancelled.

Tuesday, September 11, 9:15 AM
"Hey Victor, good thing you didn't go to New York today, there seems to have been a plane crash there".

I go to the conference room where a few people are gathered watching the news. We all saw the same thing most of the world saw, part of the World Trade Center in flames. Speculation about pilot or engine failure and general concern. No one said anything about terrorists. Why would someone talk about terrorists? Up to that point we really didn't have anything to worry about.

As the camera is live on the tower's we all see the image that still haunts us to this day. Another plane hits. It's one of those "I remember exactly where I was at the time it happened" moments. Disbelief, surprise, concern and utter shock. The weird part was that no one in that conference room was in a state of panic. We were in Boston away from it all, terrorism wasn't a natural reaction and our demeanor was more about confusion than chaos.

Then the shit hit the fan.

More planes in the sky, more planes grounded, more "potential" targets.

If you've ever gotten punched in the face, its a feeling that you will never forget. At first it's less about the pain of getting hit, but the shock that you just got hit, then like Novocaine, it's a slow yet effective stream of numbness. That's what it felt like. But what pain? Sure I felt bad for everyone in New York, but how close to home did it really hit? I was in Boston, Alice was on a plane to London. Holy fuck. ALICE WAS ON A PLANE!!!!

She didn't pick up her phone, but she wasn't supposed to, her flight was supposed to be in the air, no info on its departure, nothing. Her flight was supposed to be at 9 AM so it's probably over the Atlantic now so that could be good I guess.

A plane is heading to Washington D.C.

Another plane has been spotted off course near Pittsburgh

You got to be kidding me. Not even video games can re-enact what was happening in the skies.

Then my cell phone rang. It was Alice.

"Hey, just wanted to let you know we're delayed a bit, we're on the runway, but for some reason the pilot said we are waiting a bit."

"Get the fuck off that plane now", I scream. So loud that co-workers started to gather around my office when they realized that Alice was on a plane. "Go to the emergency row, pull the fucking handle and jump on the wing and get the fuck off."

"What are you talking about?" she says with a, I'm totally annoyed with you, tone.

"Listen, two planes just crashed in New York and two more are being tracked, something bad is happening, don't know what but you should not be on a plane right now."

In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have said that. The last thing you want to do in that situation is tell someone who is petrified of flying, whose plane is on a runway about to take off, that there were just two planes that crashed in the same location 30 mins a part and two more that may.

"Hold on, I think we're going back to the terminal, I'll call you back" she said.

Tuesday, September 11, 10:30 AM

I'm outside of Logan Airport in Boston. It's a circus. Military personnel, vehicles, cops both state and local and security guards from every Tiffany's and local bank was everywhere. Alice wasn't picking up her phone and I had no idea where to start. The airport was locked down. Only people coming out, no one allowed to go in.

Phone rings.

"They're not letting me get my bags, what do I do?"

"Go home, get in a cab and I'll meet you there. They won't let me near the airport, I'm heading home."

Tuesday, September 11, 12:00 PM

I'm walking through downtown Boston heading towards the train station, most offices are closing so employees can get home to their families. The expressions are varying, from concern to confusion. I pass by a church and glance in, people are starting to spill in, it looked like a uniformed cadence of people praying for something. From the one lonely tear that fought to cling onto their cheek fighting gravity to avoid the lonely plummet to the head bow that spoke more in its silence than any of the screams and crying echoing from others. Was this real, I thought? What is happening?

I get home and Alice is on the couch in tears. She's watching the news. Her fear of flying was no longer a fear, it had become a sentencing. A verdict that to her was a lifelong albatross. No more flying, she cheated it that day and it confirmed her fears.

Tuesday, September 11, 4:00 PM
We start to get some semblance of normalcy, we decided to avoid the media, nothing good can come out of it.

The phone rings. "Yes, she lives here, hold on one sec."

All I heard were a few yes's, a no, some maybes and a handful of I think so. No thank you or goodbye. She comes back to the couch, takes the remote and switches back to CNN. Not wanting to add to the stress, I chose not to ask. I'll let her decide what's best.

The flood gates opened up. Hysterical tears, screaming and violent eruptions. She had lost it. Things broke, shelves fell, even the petals from a bouquet of flowers started to instantly wilt and take its plunge off the stem.

"That was the FBI, they wanted to confirm that I was on the American Airlines London flight. They asked if I noticed anything weird on the flight and types of people. They want me in for questioning and will call me to have someone pick me up."

Then on CNN it was announced that the government believes that there were more flights targeted for hijacking. They said that one flight from Atlanta to Germany was believed to be one and one from Boston to London...her flight.

Flash Forward

In the days and weeks to come, it was a slow healing process. Alice took some time from work and eventually quit the job due to the stress of having to travel again.

We got engaged the next year and married the following year. Subsequently, divorced years later. Every year, like most Americans, Alice takes that day to reflect. She couldn't get herself to watch any of the movies or shows made about that day and never talks about it.

Her story is just one of millions. There are people out there that lost loved ones, friends and most that didn't lose anyone but still overcome with emotion to the impact of that day. No one person's grief is more important than someone else's.

I have a friend who was supposed to be on one of the flights that hit in NYC, he was persuaded last second to stay in Boston for another meeting. He still has his boarding pass.

So on this day when most will have their own little story, anecdote or reflection, it gives me a brief pause when I hear that we will all remember that day. So maybe it's a bit insensitive but I'd rather forget it. I will honor that day and the people involved but like a bad memory or accident, no one wants to be reminded of those living nightmares.

Although, my relationship with Alice ended, I still carry the travel frog with me, I don't know how she goes about on this day or others that I know who have been affected.

But what I will choose to remember is the belief that in times of adversity and pain, we can choose to enhance the pain and join in the sorrow or figure out how to move onwards, some choose to remember and relive the pain while others move on. Sure we don't forget these moments but to know that something happened in order to be better from it is better than revisiting that emotional strain. It's all symantics I guess and tomorrow the alarm will ring again and I will roll over to steal another minute, just this time no one will be there to say goodbye to, no dog to get upset over the door slam and I'll probably grab my phone and check to see my friends Twitter and Facebook statuses that today talked about remembering but tomorrow will be back to the weather, happy birthday's, their kids, their home, what they are eating and other whimsical thoughts.

10 Things To Make Peace With

caught between my sixth straight back-to-back sportscenter, food network and a little man vs food, i found myself in one of those nights. those nights when sleeping is a foreign thought, no matter what i watch, read, eat or drink, outside of a heavy smash to my head with a blunt object, these eyes are not closing for the night. wasn't really sure why, it was a nice night, not hot, i had a good day, i even was able to get a shower in before bed - so it was a winning situation i was in. almost zen-like actually. but no sugar plums dancing in my head to lull me to sleep. not enough sheep to count. not even michael bolton on repeat could repulse me enough to drift away.

ironically, this happens to me often, but there usually is a cause or reason behind it. whether it be work, personal or just anxiety over something, but on this night...nothing.

tick tick tick, with each random thought another minute into the night passed by, 2:15 am, now 3:10 am, oh wait its an episode of no reservations i haven't seen...

3:59 am, that was a good episode, i wonder if jon & kate is on? now i approach the infomercial portion of television, magic bullets, set it and forget it, oxy clean, the awesome auger. then my mind drifted a bit...i wonder what happened to billy blanks and his tae bo videos or suzanne somers and her thigh master, something about chrissy in leotards and a one piece bathing suit sweating while opening and closing her legs was visceral and disturbing, wow how the mighty have fallen. this is getting bad, now its past 4 am and i'm in the suzanne somers fantasy portion of my insomnia...must find a way to sleep before it really gets ugly.

then it hit me, why not use this time to make peace with some things in my life. figuring that i just lost hours of my brain functionality on mindless tv, might as well pontificate a bit. hopefully i can bore myself to sleep. and with most self-help rituals, it'll probably all sound like great ideas at first which i would totally commit myself to achieving and completely forget the next day, but the goal really isn't to better myself here, its to fall asleep and if along the way i can figure out how to date less disaster stories, then its a win win in my book. so consider this my gift to society, not only for me but for all to enjoy, employ into their lives and bask in its infinite wisdom or pure silliness.

first thing to make peace with...
take things less seriously. i play basketball once a week in a refurbished school auditorium where the ceiling is lower on one side than the other, some of the people that show up to play, play in jeans and penny loafers, we light one half of the gym with a flood light, winning those games isn't going to get me drafted. the fantasy that a nba scout happens to walk into this gym looking for directions and happens to notice me isn't gonna happen. we are all competitive in nature, but we often forget that our al bundy polk high days are over and sometimes we just take certain things a bit too seriously.

second thing to make peace with...
be realistic. someone once said that we are all great american novelist, just that not all of us actually get anything written. i've probably started or conceptualized 20 or more ideas for novels, screenplays, plays or musicals and actually put fingers to keyboard on no more than three of the ideas. when my computer crashed and i lost those ideas, i chalked it up to "wasn't meant to be i guess". there's a fine line in what's a passion and what's a talent. be realistic in what you want to do and what you're good at doing. you ever notice the cliche about "having a dream and pursuing it"? why is it that only the people that have succeeded say that? you never hear a homeless man say "i put everything i had into this company and failed, but you should keep dreaming and work hard for it" or a recently laid off executive say "i worked so hard for them that i was the youngest executive ever in the organization, i took them global and if it wasn't for the economy i would've been in line for CEO, but it shows that hard work will always overcome"?

third thing to make peace with...
laugh at yourself more. a forgotten medicine for the mind and soul is the ability to laugh at oneself. we all have had our night at the apollo, but in our case the apollo theatre has been in the shower or the car, we've all tried the running man or cabbage patch dance and even farted in a crowded room or on a date. we chastise these moments as shame and embarrassment. think about it, if we were good at singing and dancing, would we be doing it on a whim to make us smile? no. singers and dancers don't sing and dance spontaneously, they do it for a living, but i'm sure they do other things outside of their comfort zone to make them happy and laugh. i don't sing and dance for a living, so i do it to make myself laugh. i know i sound more like billy the goat than billy joel when i sing, but it makes me laugh. and isn't laughter a natural mood enhancer? we are all so concerned over what people think about us that we forget about how we think about ourselves.

fourth thing to make peace with...
life in general is like a step dad, it often beats you and you sometimes you hate it, so move on. (apologies to all step dads out there, but i saw that line and had to use it, you have to admit it is a bit funny, not that i'm condoning step dad beating kids...)

fifth thing to make peace with...
letting go. we all have stalking tendacies, some more than others. you don't wear your shirt from when you were seven years old, so why should you hold onto other things in your life that you should let go. we are all nostalgic to an extent, but sometimes we find it hard to let go no matter what the situation. facebook has opened up new outlets for us. we use it to highlight how great or bad the weather is, we measure our popularity on how many birthday wishes we get posted on our wall, we idle away our dead time by telling the world we are idling away our dead time and we work harder on our old relationships than we did when we were in those relationships. i'm sure many of you subscribe to the 8 steps you're a stalker list below, if you are familiar and engage in this, consider this an intervention...

1) log on and check our wall, inbox and other messages
2) look at the news feed to see what others are doing
3) go to the page of one or multiple ex's (if there is a message or photo of said ex with someone of an opposite sex, go directly to step number 5)
4) go to the page of the people we are interested in or find hot, try to figure out if by not listing their relationship status if they are single or trying to hide something
5) go to the pages of the people our ex's have in their photos or wall comments, without any knowledge of the situation, get all riled up, start calling said ex all types of names which may or may not include slut, asshole, bitch, jerk, skank, d*&*head. if the ex is with a person we know, continue to call that person the same names listed above. Friendly reminder, they're an ex, i'm just saying...
6) go back to our page, look through the photos of ourselves, consider changing our profile photo, wish someone happy bday, accept a few friend requests and make a comment on someone else's wall
7) log out until a) one of your friends tells you about the photo they saw with your ex with so and so b) someone replies back to what you wrote on their wall or c) someone comments on your new profile photo
8) repeat daily

now its closer to 5 am and my eyes are closing, the birds are chirping and i think i might squeeze in a few hours of rest before i have to wake up. no time to think of the last five things, that will have to wait til tonight's insomnia bout, but after i watch the extenze or perfect pancake infomercial, its amazing how they get a perfect pancake every single time...

and if by chance i can't fully fall asleep, i can always go facebook stalking...